


Lesbian Fan-Fic

by mikethemechanic



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Asthma, F/F, Gay Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikethemechanic/pseuds/mikethemechanic
Summary: The Curtis sister (Danny Curtis) meets Cherry Valance and begins to question her sexuality
Relationships: Sherri "Cherry" Valance/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

I turned my head bracing to see someone holding the rope in their arms. My body jumped out of bed as if it had been shocked, my back landing against the wall with a loud thud. The tall, black, crouching creature hissed at me. It’s loud screams were worse than his victims. The loud screeching coming from the creature's mouth was nails on a chalkboard. He walked around the bed towards me and I could see dark crimson stripes from its spine to its rib cage. It’s eyes were white as ghosts but they seemed as dark as the midnight sky. By then I was screaming and crying uncontrollably. The demonic creature slowly reached out and gripped my arm something had happened, a flash of the past maybe. But in this case, the present. As I came to my senses I realized that it was my brother.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, “How long was I…”

He sighed, “Not long enough to wake anyone else.” He paused and placed his hand on my forehead, “What was it this time, Danny?”

“I-I don’t know,” I stammered and placed my back against the wall too steady my self.

*

The whole day passed as if I was hungover. However, not from drink, from sheer lack of impulse and exaustion. Leaning forwards against a dusty wall, my feet pushed far back, carefully drooling, seeing how far the spittle could dangle without breaking. The teacher was pacing the floor, explaining something he had gone over the previous day.

He had the look of one who had grown too fast in his youth, his bulk never catching up to his bones. He had to duck on entering the room, before edging toward his vinyl desk in his corduroy jacket and decade old flared trousers. The kids couldn't look at him without being reminded of Basil Fawlty. He had the same waning but wild brown hair. the way he held his lanky frame and gestured with his hands screamed comedy. Within seconds of entering the room the kids had spread picnics on the table and begun loud conversations about last nights television or a favoured computer game. Only the four girls at the front listened while I hid in the back, only looking up from my book when needed.

When class was over he kept me back, grabbing my arm and signalling towards his desk. He sat down, adjusting in his seat a manner of times before giving in and turning his gaze towards the book in my hand. “So…” He started, “How did you like it?”

“Clique,” I smiled, “But enjoyable.” We discussed our opinions, each question ricochet off our toungues and the answers not far behind.

“I’m glad you say that, but unfortunately I am running out of books.You’ve read enough to fill a library. However I guess Inteligence is key. Nothing has caused the human race more trouble than inteligence.“ he paused, “You do know how too aquire inteligence, right Ms. Curtis?”

The answer was obvious but my mind went blank, “Reading?”

He flashed another charismatic smile before handing me the book from the false bottom in his desk drawer, “ Yes. but not just reading… experience,” he rejoiced, “You don’t learn by following the rules, you learn by doing, and falling over!” He winked, “Don’t be late to class.”

“Yessir,” I replied before scrambling out the door.

*

I looked outside, watching as the clouds traveled over the skys surface. The hues were as molten silver, swirling in steady and radiating ripples. I love the sky before a storm; I love the greys of every shade and depth. I love the smell as well, one only a storm could produce. However, Darry thoughtlessly forced us inside once it started too rain.

“I’m sorry but the forecast-”

“Yeah Darry I know,” I bounced my fingers up and down to mock his uncompromising tone, “The forecast.”

I looked down in frustration and stirred the heavy batter with no more grace than Sodapop. The chocolate gently oozing down the sides of the metal bowl.

Two-bit cocked his eyebrow in a taunting manor, “Having fun their?”

“Like you could do better,” I sneered.

“Theirs not much competition, is their?”

Baking cake was my favourite way to pass the afternoon after church. I’d sung hymns to the rafters and now I was ready to work with chocolate and butter. It wasn't that I was a master baker, not at all. The filling came from a mix every time, "devil's food cake" no less. I would just laugh and say "Well, if I can't beat Betty I may as well join her." Though I swore I’d never be so domestic as to wear an apron, I had decided to eat those words out of practicality. It was either that or have cake batter and frosting on my favourite t-shirt.

“Y’know you would make a great miss butterworks wouldn’t ya doll?”

“Shut up Steve,” I sneered, “With all those extra pounds you’d be the likely candidate.” Two-bit giggled, nearly choking on his drink, earning him a stern glare from Steves side of the room.

*

The cake was in the oven by eight, leaving the rest of the afternoon too ourselves. The storm outside only growing stronger. The rain falling in crazy chaotic drops, the gusting wind carrying them in wild vortices one moment and in diagonal sheets the next. Ponyboy mindlessly clicked at the Tv remote, scrolling through each channel as if he knew what would come next. Everyone followed the same manor, only stopping to take a sip of the drink in front of them.

Ponyboy was first too come to the crushing conclusion, “Theres nothing on.”

“I heard they were showing a movie on BBC,” I shrugged, “Could be somewhat interesting.”

The movie we settled for was an old one, set in the 1920’s. We followed the main character through her life, ups and downs. She was the kind of girl that women loved to hate. She was an adult I suppose, but so young that she still had the exuberance of youth. She had that movie star look, not overly tall and willowy, but more like an action star. Her muscle definition was perfect and she walked with the confidence of someone a decade older. She wasn't just flawless in her bone structure, her skin was like silk over glass and she radiated an intelligent beauty through the glass screen.

However, this wasn't like every other old movie. During the middle of the film we are introduced too her love interest. They slowly fall deeply in love and in the end die together, but it was different. The Love interest wasn’t a man, she was a woman.


	2. Chapter 2

I looked down at the boxes below my feet, the scattered newspaper made this a perfect movie scene. Everything familiar to me was in those boxes, things that brought wonderful memories to my thoughts, playing them as if they were beloved old movies.

I remembered the usual sunday morning, right after church. I'd be up early, voice blaring. My mother would be hiding in her room, 'putting her eyebrows on' as she used to say. Then she'd shush me and I'd complain of her reducing my rights to freedom of expression, only to hear her stock response, “I'm not seeking to reduce your rights, love, just your volume."

The boxes smelled like her. The faint smell of jasmine was like a shot of adrenaline right too my heart. Death wasn't kind. I knew that. It snatched where it could, taking people who were far too young, far too good. It didn't pretend to care, it didn't pretend to distinguish. The hooded vale of death had hung over the world for a long time, always threatening. It had never touched me quite so close. Death had ripped away a part of me, the part of me that was most loved. Now I would sit staring for hours. My face sunken and haunted, my mind cold and empty.

I still remember the funeral, everyone's faces. However, no matter how hard I tried to cry, I couldn't. It was numbness that took over. A new emotion. When the words did not come, the tears did. The mourning was supposed to be something dignified and stoic in my family, but once I was behind closed doors I cried like a child, noisily, with running snot and choking sobs. I was not ashamed.

Soda, Pony, and Darry crowded around me, forming a small circle. Each of us in our own boxes. Darry was invested in an old photo of our parents, one I couldn't even remember taking. Soda stared at the many baseball hat dad had collected and proudly wore over the years. His favorite hat was an inexpertly made bowler. To shorten the process of making it the crafter had chosen the thickest wool and the largest gauge needles they sell in the Friday market. Now there it was, The stitching was frayed and the once brightly colored hat was tinted a light brown dew to lack of sunlight, laying in my brothers mangled hands.

Darry turned too us, “Remember when we went too that circus?” Soda nodded, “I wondered where that went.”

Ponyboy looks up from his stack of papers, “Where what went Darry?”

He froze, “Nothing.” Darrys’s failed attempt at small talk caused him to wander out the room, yearning for yet another cup of coffee.

I stammered with my words, “how many of those have you had?”

He shrugged, “Enough.” The dark circles around his eyes betraying his words.

*

The red barstool shifted underneath my body everytime my head moved. Each time it scared me into thinking I might fall, a shock of adreneline too keep me awake just a bit longer.

I hadnt slept the night before, too many nightmares. I drifted into consciousness and then back out. The world was a blur, and random images seemed to float aimlessly around in the pool of my thoughts, as though they were being blown about viciously by a hurricane.

I feel someone tap my shoulder, “Dear?” I look up too see someone my age, “Didn’t want you too fall asleep on me,” she laughs, “although wouldnt be the first time.”

The girl stood with a hip jutted to one side, her right arm draped across her slender body, clasping the elbow opposite. Her head lolled down to one shoulder casting her bobbed hair onto the faded waitress uniform that was two sizes too small.

I rub my eyes, “S-Sorry.” I wanted too carry on the conversation but I couldn’t find my voice. I felt my cheeks flushed hot, and my stomach was heavy. Her eyes wandered around the crowd. Mine stayed locked on her. She was beautiful.

She turned her gaze towards me causing me too frantically look away, “Have a nice day.”

*

I was walking like my shoes were too tight, making short little strutting steps like a clockwork soldier. The air is so cold yet the trees are on fire. I smile up at the inferno above my head. Scarlet and gold licks at the blue sky, no rain clouds today. The chill in the post-dawn air is the first hint that winter isn't far behind. Then these trees will stand naked, bereft of their color. But for now they line the avenue and my walk to school is more vibrant than any carnival parade. I am torn between keeping my eyes high to watch for the falling leaves dancing their way to the carpeted ground, or looking down to spy the crunchy ones. I love to step on them, I guess I'm still a kid at heart. Given half a chance I still jump in puddles too, just not when my friends are looking.

The Waitresses gentle face still flooded my mind and I felt my stomach jump. My cheeks had died down too a light pink. One I could easily blame on the cold weather. Feeling a soft pat on my head I look up, Pulling a slightly crumpled red leaf out of my hair. The leaf reminds me of a church window, of the glass that glows so brightly on sunlit days. I trace the veins with one finger, following nature's architecture from stem to tip. I lift it to the light and let my eyes travel over it.

I move the leaf too the side as it blocks my vision and close my eyes, “Thank you,” I whisper.

A penintrating scream throws me back to reality. One I recognize. I run towards the blaring sound, The gentle wind defying my moments. I stopped and stood far behind, hiding behind a small tree. As I watched the commotion unfold I found Ponyboy laying on the wet tarmac with a blade against his throat. Another deafening scream causing me too pull out my inhaler. Feeling the medicine in my lungs I spiral into action.

*

In that frozen second between stand off and fighting I see their eyes flick from me to him. Our faces are unreadable, no fear, no invitational smirk. I am banking on them making the smae mistake they never seem too learn from, and they do. In that instant they fly at me, ignoring Ponyboy. They expect it to be five on one, over in a bloody flash and then they go back to their chatue. But things don't go their way, not at all.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and in seconds have him twisted under my blade, “Ooh your feisty,” he taunts.

The rest of them circle around me like a pack of hungry wolves picking at their prey. I’ve seen this before, the last thing I was going to manifest was fear. “One move and his throat turns too ribbons,” I pull the blade closer too his neck and he jolts in response. I have a tight grip. He can’t break free.

I heard pounding of feet behind me and instantly recognized the shouts that follow. They cleared out faster than I could comprehend. I whip the blade back inside its metal encloser and kicked the guy to the ground, watching as he scrambled for balance. “Dipshit,” I mumble.


	3. Chapter 3

Darry wasn’t speaking too anybody . Hiding in his bedroom, only emerging to remind us how late it is.

Soda turns too me, “He’s angry?”

I shake my head no, I lied. Darry was mad often nowadays, only stopping too yell at us. Every time he opened his mouth I got angrier. "That's not the right way to stack a dishwasher, you don't wash up properly, fold the clothes this way..." At first I would swallow my retort and just do it, smile and move on. But that only made it worse. Then he felt empowered to micromanage every little aspect of our lives, every damn thing done his damn way. One day I just snapped. All that rage came out faster than magma and just as destructive. It consumed all that he was, so delicate under that carefully ordered world. He shrivelled before me but I kept on going, stopping short of physical violence but doing far more damage with my words. I’ll never forget his face.

The slam of a door snapped me into reality and I peered over the tall man infront of us, “Where is he?” Darry snaps and Soda stiffens, “he was supposed to come home by now.”

“Ponyboy is fine, he’s a big boy Darry,” Soda assures.

“Big boy my ass!”

*

Ponyboy stumbled through the door around midnight. Darry was on his feet in a second while I watched from the corner of the room, this wasn’t my battle too fight.

Darry etched closer. Each step he took Pony took another one, backing up in fear of the tall figure in front of him. Their voices rose above the sacred silence. A glance, touch, and one small comment stirred a hurricane of harsh and horsed insults. Their own Pandora boxes opened, sending each word full speed ahead to shatter their souls into a million pieces.

his nails were already bitten down to the quick. he nibbled at their frayed, form edges like a famished mouse. “I didn’t mean too… I was talking too johnny and we both… dropped off,” he pleaded.

“You what?” Darry began too yell while Soda stirred on the couch.

“I reckon it never occurred too you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because somethin’ like that could get you too thrown in a boys home so quick it’d make your heads spin. And you were asleep in the lot? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can’t you use your head?” He gestured towards Pony’s bare arms, “You haven’t even got a coat on.” Soda was awake by now.

“I said I didn’t mean too…”

“I didn’t mean too!” Darry mocked and we both jumped, “I didn’t think! I forgot! That’s all I hear out of you! Can’t you think of anything?”

“Darry lay off,” my voice was quiet and hollow but it was enough for Darry to turn on me too.

“You keep your trap shut! Can’t you keep your big nose out of everyones business?” I watched as Darry’s eyes blazed with fire, just like it had done before. Suddenly I felt no pity towards him, this wasn’t the Darry I knew.

Ponyboy exploded, “Don’t yell at her!”

Darry wheeled around throwing his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to Pony’s face, it hit his jaw with such force the mark was already visible. With Pony’s own two hands he grasped his head in his hands and froze, We all froze. Nobody hit anyone in this family. Nobody.

Soda was wide eyed. Darry looked at the palm of his hand where it had turned red and then back at pony, “Ponyboy…” he began, but it was too late. Ponyboy was out the door before he could apologize.

*

I bolted down the wet tarmac like an Olympic champion at the start gun, hand covering my chest in fear it might burst. I quickened my pace to an all out sprint as the house disappeared behind me. The slapping noise of my bare feet resonated around the vandalised walls of the neghborhood with a clanging echo.

I was surrounded by air but none of it is doing me any good. It's like someone put a bag over my head. As I fight to get the air in my body works against me, closing off the airways I need. But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop, not if it killed me. He wasn’t too far away.

For some people asthma isn't that bad, it's inconvenient, but if they leave their inhaler at home it doesn't matter all that much. But it if I left my inhaler at home someone would wind up calling me an ambulance. Once I realised I had left it behind I began to panic, then the wheezing started and I felt like I was trying to breathe through a clogged pipe . Since the last trip to the emergency room I had attached a spare inhaler to a string and knotted it firmly to the belt loops of the jeans I planned on wearing the next day.

I inch closer feeling my lungs slowly collapse until I have too stop, My vision slowly becoming one big blur . The floor seems too sway at my feet as I watch my brother turn the corner. He was gone and I knew I would be too if I didnt find medicine soon. I patted around my pants until I came too the scarry conclusion that my inhaler wasnt there. The same mistake I never seemed too learn from, coming back too haunt me at the worst posible moment. Before I knew it my vision was compromised and felt my body go limp, smacking the ground without leaving me anytime too react. The darkness had taken over.


	4. Chapter 4

I wake as if it's an emergency, as if sleeping had become a dangerous thing. My heart beats fast, there is a buzzing in my brain and together they are as panic with jump-leads. Only now my brain is as a flat battery, the exertions of the night being a marathon of erratic problem-solving. I open my eyes only too see my bedroom walls and burrow myself in the soft, warm sheets. My lungs had openned up more and allowed me too breathe. However, only to some extent. Slowly and reluctantly, I uncover my face. I blink, close my eyes, and blink again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and blind me. I sit up, drag my feet off the bed, and rub my knuckles onto my eyes. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. I watch my legs dangle above the off-white polyester carpet.

I start for the kitchen only to come crashing down. My hand slipped along the high sheen paint and I sprawled onto the carpet with a crashing thump. The room swirled before becoming stationary again and I used the bedstead to pull myself to standing. My legs ache and as I look down in front of me I am surprised at what I see.

Soda layed curled up in the corner of my room, half of his leg covering the entirety of my small room. “Hey Soda, howd’ya sleep down there?”

“Great.” He blinked, “You breathing alright?”

I nodded, smacking my lips as my stomach turned in an unfriendly way. “Pony’s… ”

Soda studied the ground before answering, “gone.”

*

I had underestimated the cold tonight, not like me at all, and I can’t run with this load to warm. I’m marching but the night air is wicking my heat away faster than my body can replace it. I could turn back of course, but then what if Darry wakes? What then? Go back just too scramble into another argument? No thanks. I just need too clear my head. That’s all.

I continued down the garden path until I ended up in the park. The park was abot two blocks square with a fountain in the middle and a small swimming pool for the little kids. The pool was empty now in the fall, but the fountain was going merrily. Tall elm trees made it shadowy and dark, it would have been a good hangout. However, the vacant lot still topped it and the shepard outfit like the alleys down by the tracks. The park was left to lovers and little kids.

I wasn’t used too seeing it empty, some of my fondest memories were in this place.The park is my kind of place in its absolute stillness. If there was a person moving in here I would hear them. I am alone. The old swings are stationary and there is barely even a soft whisper from what leaves remain in the late autumn trees. The rain has melted the leaves underfoot to slush, making my boots wet and feet cold. On the downward slope of the park the ground is waterlogged at this time of year. It’s icy and coarse with grit. I just have to hope the benches aren’t drenched.

Too my surprise they aren’t completely covered. I sit down and feel the cold wood touch my skin and place a hand over my chest in fear my lungs would possibly collapse. I let out a burning ball of air that was searing the walls of my lungs and pressed my back against the wood, laying my head back conveniently. I reached for my inhaler and find it there, in the pocket I always keep it in, always ready to open me up. I count to three and execute the breathe I was holding, allowing the air too flow in and let the medicine atack my asthma.

“You have asthma?” A soft voice startles me and the stranger steps back in response, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

The girl stood infront of me with her hands clasped behind her back and her legs doddle like a child. Her hair was as waves of pure fire, softly reflecting the light of the moon; each strand moving freely in an ocean born breeze, a compliment to her stillness. With eyes of summer grass, in glossy serenity, her aura seeped into the cold air between us. And in that moment, in that fraction of time, her smile was in every God given feature.

She gestured towards the bench, “any room?” I quickly slide over and pat the seat next too me. She sits.

She was wearing a yellow gown made of soft, satiny fabric, long and loose. A semicircular, high collar made of silk-like materials, barely showing her small feet. She walked as lightly as an acrobat. A puff of wind swept through her red hair before it slipped into the woods to rustle leaves. It didn’t take a scientist to figure out she wasn’t from around here.

“I didn’t catch your name?”

“Cherry, Cherry Valance.” She extends her hand, I take it.

I look down at her other hand, “Umm,” I begin, “You have a hammer?”

She looks down in shock than back up too me with a smile, “Destiny.”

*

Meeting someone new is a divine pleasure. Regardless of how things turn out, I love the dance that begins. The most important idea is to be able to get a true feeling for who they are over a few weeks and months without ever forming an opinion of them. You let them develop as an old polaroid photograph, nice and slow. Perhaps they are a life long friend, a lovable rouge or a person too damaged to give in an emotionally warm and nurturing way. So, all I can say is, I am glad I met Cherry.

We joke all night, only stopping to catch our breathes. And when she was giggling like a little girl, I swear even the birds shut up to hear her beautiful laughter emerging and filling the air with gorgeous sounds coming from deep in her chest. Her laughter was so free and pure, so childish despite her teenage years, I couldn’t help but join in.

“Danny?” I hear a faint yell and immediately recognize the voice, “Danny where are you?”

“Shit,” I murmur.

I quickly grab Cherrys hand, pulling her behind a tree until the coast was clear. I watched from afar as Steves car pulled away and backed into the street. Letting out a big sigh I look back at Cherry, her face was red. Only then did I realize I was tangled in her arms, gently pressing her against the trees surface.

I apologize, “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean, well-”

Her smile grows, “you’re cute when your flustered.”

Her response makes my cheeks burn and I look away in fear of her seeing how embarrassed I really was. “I should go, there not gonna stop lookin’ for me ‘till I turn myself in.”

“Seems like your brother runs a pretty tight ship.”

I smile, “You have no idea.” I run my hand through my hair and meet her soft gaze, “Will I see you again?”

She nods and picks up the hammer, taking a pen out of her pocket and quickly scribbling on the wooden handle. “You just carry those with you?” I ask.

“You never know who you will meet, do you Danny?” She cocks her eyebrow and hands me the hammer, “Call me.”

“First thing?” I ask.

“First thing.”


	5. Chapter 5

I stepped into the shower, toes flinching as they touched the chilled ceramic floor. My mind was in shreds; I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I turned the dial, old and metallic, releasing thousands of lukewarm drops, darkening my hair and trickling down my back. My eyes fell closed over and over, each time showing me the images of her face like photographs. I turned around and looked at the empty space in front of me, I wanted her too be there. She wasn’t.

My stomach snarled and howled and from it came the not-so-subtle undertone of pain. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the warm towel around my dripping body, the only thing I looked forward to was breakfast. It was Soda’s turn.

Soda could put anything on a pizza and make it taste fabulous, I swear he could. There were the days he pulled a plain cheese from the oven just to make us laugh, but most days it was an edible form of his crazy wonderful imagination. It was the thing we looked forward to the most after our day. Nothing surprises us anymore, but we're still amazed each time supper comes around.

I sit down at the table head in hands and watch as Soda spreads the avocado over the toast and sprinkles tomato on top as if it were cake decorations. There was a joy in how he did it, as if for a moment he was happily absorbed by a feeling of love that played in his subtle smile and soft gaze. Then he brought it over, his and mine, the breakfast that became a part of the rhythm after mom and dad died. He looked me up and down before sitting besides me, “Something wrong?”

I shake my head, “Overwelmed.”

He tilts his head for an answer and I pause, not expecting the conversation too go on. “School,” he buys it.

Steve and Two-bit come by shortly after breakfast, Steve holding a newspaper. He slams it down in front of me. I look up, doing my best too express my confusion, “What?”

He gestures toward the headline, “look dumbass.”

I look. Two-bit carrys on the conversation but i’m to invested on the words infront of me. Around the centre was a rubber band to keep it closed but other than that it was the same newspaper everyone else around here took. The date was only a couple of days prior and the pages were fine other than obviously having been rain splattered and dried. I pushed the rubber band off, letting it fall into a sample bag, who knew what it could say. Over the wood table I let the paper unfurl, nothing fell out but there was something highlighted in the back pages.

I read outloud, “hoodlums kill innocent teen.” I pause and comprehend my words. Below are two pictures of Johnnycake and Pony and I know someones messed up.

before I can speak my mind Soda does it for me, “hoodlums? T-Thats absurd.”

I read on, “There going to put us in a home, Soda.”

his voice is quiet and confused, “that has too be against the law… right?”

I place my back against the seat until I build enough courage to meet his worrisome gaze, “no.”

*

It was seven o’ clock before I decide to give up and go too bed, maybe get some rest. In reality I knew this was stupid, I wouldn’t sleep. However, anything was better than sitting in the same seat reading the same words over and over."

Tired?" Soda smiled at me, I jerk awake with a start, and stare at him.

"No, I'm fine." I mutter, rubbing my eyes fiercely.

"Your lying." he pokes my arm lightly.

"Don't do that." I move my arm away from his and stare blankly at the wall in front of us.

"Not fine my butt," I hear him mutter, In response I glare at him.

"I don't need sleep."

"Vampires need sleep too." Soda protests, "Go to sleep." he keeps smiling at my annoyed expression.

*

I soon give in and get up. I could feel my knees shake and grab onto the table just incase. Only feet from my room I twist the bedroom doorknob, but before I can even think to step in, Dallas arrives. His cowboyish gait was at odds with the leather jacket. There was a casualness to it that wasn't quite right in leather so crisp. All that was missing was the gun and ten gallon hat.

He collapses on the couch. I walk into my room doing just the same. I reverently rubbed my fingers along the silken mattress. I pressed my cheek to the cool, velvet pillows. The comforter was thick and irresistibly soft, like a billowing cloud. I toppled into it, relieved to rest my weary feet. Warmth and darkness enveloped me. I turned to my side and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in as I pull it up to speak.

I hear her soft voice, “Hello?”

“Hi Cherry.”

We talked all night, just like before. The same sensation filled my stomach as it did a couple of nights before. She listens as if my words are golden, perhaps some elixir she's been waiting all her days to hear. From what she says next I can tell she is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of what I am capable of. And in her words are a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for her, it is natural. This attentiveness is apart of who she is. As the hours go by it becomes the best conversation I've ever had too, it flows, with listening and intelligent responses.

*

I wake up faster than a cat in ice-water, every sense urging me to claw my way to standing. My eyes sting as I rub them and I look towards the hallway, something made a sound. It’s barely morning. The light outside isn’t enough to light my room so I turn on a lamp. I hear more footsteps and poke my head out the door.

“Dallas?” He looks up in shock and freezes, “What the hell are you doing?”

I watch as he struggles with his boots, “I was just leaving,” he looks are deceiving.

“Where?”

“Look doll, I can’t tell you nothin’”

My brain is a flat battery but I’m not stupid, “is it to see Pony?” Silence. “You’re taking me with you.”

He pauses and scratches his head, “Fine, but you keep your mouth shut.”

I scurry off too my room, getting dressed quicker than Dallas could comprehend. Pulling on a grubby corduroy cloth cap, an old checked shirt with two buttons missing and baggy jeans that had seen better days. We were out the door in no time.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay Gold


End file.
